


Well You've Gotta Be Crazy

by Philosphersanddreams



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Everybody Lives, Fix-It, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:00:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24854986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philosphersanddreams/pseuds/Philosphersanddreams
Summary: After the Losers defeat Pennywise, Richie struggles with the aftermath, and what it means for him. Through this, he's oblivious to Eddie’s attempts at showing his true feelings, and his inner turmoil takes the wheel in most situations involving anything that has to do with love. Richie finds himself offering his home, years of living alone, and his heart just to be near the man he’s been (knowingly and unknowingly) head over heels for since... well he isn’t sure but he’ll get to that. (Title and chapters are inspired by the song “Crazy” by Icehouse).
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Audra Phillips, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris
Comments: 10
Kudos: 9





	1. Head in the Clouds, the King of Fools

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie hides his feelings, learns some things about himself, and invites Eddie to live with him.

Where does it begin? Better yet, where does it fucking end?

This was something Richie thought a lot about these past few days. It started when he got the call from Mike, it started when that fucking spider-hybrid-eyeball looked at him, it started when they found out about Stanley, it started when he had to relive his childhood trauma, it started when the ritual didn’t work, it started when Eddie almost died. 

That’s the thing, he’s got his past back now. And, boy oh boy, is it a fucking doozy. He’s been in this in-between phase - this might have to do with the deadlights, he’s not exactly sure considering it’s not every day that a space alien clown decides to torture you by catching you in visions of forgotten childhood friends dying in an endless loop, and or scenarios in which if he said them out loud, the air would leave his lungs, and his throat would suddenly feel like it was caving in. 

Point is, he hasn’t gotten around to confronting what he saw. Richie isn’t good with confrontation; that’s why his voices and jokes exist. They can mask the good, the bad, and the ugly. His lack of registering emotions isn’t limited to the dead lights - he watched his just-remembered-best friend almost die. 

Turns out the deadlights gave him some clues on how to not let Eddie die - the clown did have an inkling of a heart! It was a lot more than just seeing good ol’ Eds shish kebabed by a fucking clown. He had to witness all the Losers die - the only difference was that not everyone’s death was screened mere seconds after snapping out of the deadlight trance. Yeah, no, Richie definitely saw it happen about a dozen times, yet his body wouldn’t allow him to move or even speak. Moments felt like years - a state of comatose. However, the final time felt different. Eddie felt real hovering over him - he felt real hands grabbing his wrist. Strong wiry clammy hands. 

“Rich! Hey, Rich, wakeup! Yeah, there he is, buddy! Hey, Richie, listen I think I got him-”

In another scenario, in another lifetime, this would have been the ideal time to say, “Hey, buddy, you totally made that clown your bitch!” Instead, he grabbed Eddie by the shoulder and swiftly rolled them away. He knew that if he let him finish that sentence, if he let him die on false hope, then that would be it.

He didn’t, and does he thank his lucky fucking stars. They finished the clown-like they should have during the summer of 89’. They faced their fears and years of trauma head-on. They’d remember each other after this one. 

Even Stan’s wife, Patricia, had news. She called Beverley, having had her number from the initial call, speaking with a voice that could only be described as hopeful. Stan was alive and doing well - he was in the hospital, and would be for a week, but he was alive. Richie burst into uncontrollable tears after that one; he missed Stan the man. He was going to make up for lost time once he saw that nerd again. 

However, there was a lot to face leaving dreadful Derry one more time. That meant temporarily saying goodbye to everyone (don’t worry, they have a group chat now). That also meant he had to return to things that once belonged to another version of him - a lifestyle that wasn’t him. God, his manager must have been pissed. 

Returning to LA to his empty luxury apartment was similar to walking into a local grocery store - get what you need and leave. Looking at little parts of his life was like seeing things with a new pair of eyes, only these still required an eyeglass prescription. 

Also, there’s one small, minor detail - Richie is gay. It’s not like he didn’t know this. He didn’t spend years making girlfriend jokes for people to think he was anything but straight. You really can’t go around pretending that you aren’t till you croak. Suppression was the Tozier remedy, but even that isn’t a permanent fix. Nope. Not when you’ve got a doe-eyed best friend you’ve been in love with ever since you could register what loving someone felt like. 

This is his small-but-big ass fuck dilemma. Knowing lovesick Ben was still in love with Bev made him feel somewhat better, but Richie is certain his situation is unmatchable. First, Eddie is married to a woman - dead fucking giveaway. Yeah, she might be like Sonia Kaspbrak, but that certainly doesn’t mean Eddie will be any less married when he heads back to New York. He could face the gay part, but it would take some time, he knew that. However, this Eddie situation would have to be buried with all his hopes and dreams. 

He simply doesn’t want to face this part of him. It’s hard enough getting trauma filled memories back, he couldn’t lose Eddie to his intrusive thoughts of love. He doesn’t recall being in love with anyone like this, but how hard can it be to get over it? He’s the champion of burying feelings until they no longer exist. 

This all leads to his current situation, three months after they defeated It. Richie and Eddie are on Skype for the fourth time this week. Yeah, yeah, they have their private call aside from when they Skype the others, so what?

It’s a Friday night, which means they both have a wind-down beverage in front of them. Eddie chose his favorite: a glass of wine, while Richie chose Jack and Coke, his signature drink. Eddie just got done ranting about some guy named Eric from his office, who seems to be analyzing all his risks, or something like that Richie doesn’t understand his job, but he gives him his undivided attention nonetheless. That is until Eddie clears his throat like he wants to say something, but isn’t sure how he wants to introduce the topic. He still speaks in the end. 

“Hey, Rich, I have to talk to you about something... It’s a pretty big deal, so shut the fuck up for a second.” The words lacked confidence, but Richie understood.

Richie understood to the point of freezing up. Had he figured Trashmouth out? Did Pennywise tell him something while he was in the deadlights? He might as well just face the music. 

Swallowing, he answered, “Okay, lay it on me.” 

“I’m getting a divorce.” 

_ Oh… so that was it? _

Richie could feel oxygen slowly starting to make its way back into his lungs. Now that was over, he could focus on what Eddie just said. A divorce, holy shit! He should probably respond now. 

“Holy shit, Eds, tha- that’s fucking amazing, I’m proud of you. That’s really-”

“Richie don’t call me that, also let me finish dickwad.” Eddie was scowling, but his eyes seemed to be smiling, so Richie didn’t feel all that bad for speaking. “I told her I wanted a divorce because I needed to live for myself. I went around my whole fucking life living for people, and I never made my own choices. I let my mom walk all over me, and I was kept on a short leash. Who gets told their whole life that they aren’t allowed to make their own choices?” Sighing, he slowly traced his index finger along the rim of his wine glass. “Okay, now you can speak.”

Richie felt nothing but affection for him at that moment. Eddie was right, he had been told his whole life (from what he can remember and from what he was told) that he wasn’t capable of taking care of himself. That was far from the truth. Eddie was independent, courageous, and the only motherfucker who faced his fears without batting an eye. He knew where he was going, and he knew what he wanted. He was everything Richie admired. Yeah, he needed more to drink.

Richie practically chugged his mix of a drink, giving Eddie a small smile towards the camera. “I’m happy that you’re living for yourself. You deserve to choose what makes you happy. You’ve dealt with bullshit your whole life, it’s time you show the world what Spaghetti is made of!” 

He could hear Eddie roll his eyes (if that were at all possible), but that god damn grin he was wearing didn’t fade. “Thanks, Rich, it means a lot.” His cheeks were a slight crimson color now as he sipped at his wine, but Richie paid no mind to it. 

“So, what’s the plan? Are you traveling around the country? Exploring the unknown? What does Eds see himself doing once the chains are lifted?” He said with a little too much enthusiasm.  _ God damn uncontrollable joy.  _

Eddie just snorted, almost a laugh, but not enough to stroke Richie’s ego. “I’m not sure. Typically, I have a plan for everything, but for now, I’ve been focusing on getting a divorce lawyer. I’m taking things day by day.”

“That’s good Eds, just let things flow.” 

As Richie sat on this newly discovered information, an idea popped into his head, or for lack of better words, flew out of his mouth faster than the speed of light. “Have you ever been to LA, Spaghetti? This place is a hotspot for folks like you - I’d even say it’s the capital of hopes and dreams. I’m not telling you to move here, but I’m most definitely offering you an invitation to my humble abode.”  _ Could I have sounded anymore eager?  _

Eddie went silent after that. Richie was okay for any entity (their choice) to take him that moment, bring him to the afterlife to bathe in self-pity for all of eternity. Much better than silence on a Skype call. 

However, Eddie spoke with a newfound calmness, “You know, that isn’t a bad idea. Mike is going to Florida after all, I might as well head for a heatstroke state.” He fumbles for a second, biting his bottom lip, before continuing, “I’d like that a lot. I wouldn’t be able to right away. I’ll be dealing with this divorce for a while, so, yeah…”

Richie was not expecting that. He was expecting him to hang up, never speaking to him again. He figured if not all the longing stares, it was that poor excuse of an invitation that said: “Hey I’m totally in love with you. Have been since we were thirteen, so you should totally stay with me. It’ll be just like old times!” 

Nevermind the afterlife, he’s okay with his current state. He slams his glass down, the Jack and Coke long-forgotten - replaced by thoughts of Eddie living with him in domestic bliss.  _ Ah, a man can dream, right? _

“Wow, uh, great, man! My Lil’ old apartment will be waiting for you whenever. Just keep this Trashmouth posted, okay?” Richie checked the pulse on his wrist, for extra measure. Yep, his heart was still beating. 

“Thanks again, Richie. A trip like that would do me good, for sure.” He nodded, before finishing, “Yeah, so I’m going to have to let you go, Rich, but I hope everything continues to go well for you. Text me if you need anything.” _ Richie lied about his current situation, what a shock.  _

So that was that? Eddie is staying. At his place. After his divorce is finalized. 

“Of course. Night, Eds, don’t let the bed bugs bite. I await our next Skype call. Until then, farewell and goodnight.” 

Eddie grimaces at the wall behind him, “That is so fucking gross, who even thought to say ‘don’t let the bed bugs bite’?” His eyes fall to Richie, his face adorning a soft expression again. “Goodnight, Rich.” 

And, that was that. Eddie was technically moving in. Their Skype calls never stopped - in fact, they became an everyday thing. They both found themselves waiting for the day they could both see each other in the flesh again. This lasted for about five months until Eddie gave the heads up that he was packing all of his belongings, purchasing a plane ticket, and changing his job location. 

This was fucking real, and Richie had two days to panic before it became a reality. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first real-deal fanfic, so thank you for taking the time to read this! I have a solid idea on how I want things to go, so chapters should be posted weekly.


	2. You’ve Got a Ribbon of Rainbows, The Sun in Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie gets a divorce, learns what makes him happy, and has a flashback.

“Myra just sign the fucking papers! I was nice about this in the beginning, but now you’re just fighting a losing battle!” Eddie said with as much air he could muster without losing his breath. 

His whole day consisted of him trying to convince Myra to sign the separation agreement his lawyer had presented him with the day before. He was going on hour eight, with no sign of Myra caving. She was being her typical self - throwing herself at Eddie, trying to convince him he needed her, that he wasn’t capable of making such a big decision by himself. 

“Eddie you don’t understand - you’re only feeling this way because you’re tired. You don’t understand what this means for you… for me! You’ve been this way ever since you got back from your little trip! Not to mention that trip caused you pain, Eddie… I’ve never had you lash out me like this - especially the foul words! Where did you pick that up from? Eddiebear, you have to know what’s good for you! Thi- this isn’t!” She had tears streaming down her face, collecting at her chin, and running down her neck, an endless icy river. She went to hold his cheek, but it didn’t feel right. He shied away, looking at the ground with the type of focus he’d grown to know - the type of focus he associated with shame. Shame that stemmed from not having control over the situation.  _ Not this time.  _

Eddie didn’t know what reactions were legitimate or not anymore. Yes, she was his wife, but to him, their marriage was a legal document. He never understood the concept of considering someone a soulmate, even if you were married - it just seemed unimaginable and naive. He understood why she was upset, and that caused him some level of guilt, however, he knew well enough that the feelings were mutual in terms of their relationship. 

“Myra, I’m not going to apologize for something I know is right for me. I’m only sorry that I didn’t do this sooner; you know we aren’t fucking happy, look at us! I’ve been sleeping in the guest room for four years - healthy couples don’t work that way, Myra! I’ve been raised to think that I need someone - a woman to be okay. I don’t! I’m tired of coming home and looking forward to going to bed! I’m tired of taking pills that I don’t fucking need, and I’m tired of thinking everything is out to get me! I’m not happy Myra, and if you have any morals at all, you would recognize the fact that someone in this relationship isn’t happy!” 

_ Silence.  _

That was the most Eddie had probably said to Myra in a single conversation -  _ ever.  _ It felt good - amazing. He didn’t sugar coat it or say he was fine. 

Myra glanced down at Eddie as if he committed a crime and got away with it. Reluctantly, she snatched the pen out of his hand, along with the papers, and read over them with careful ease as it sat on the table mockingly. Eddie got the chills. 

A single tear dripped on to the paper, staining the black ink as if it would take away the meaning. It didn’t. Eddie had read the document with consideration and courage. The words meant freedom to him; they wiped away all guilt. 

“All you have to do is sign it. We have a prenuptial agreement, so we both have nothing to lose. You can play all the cards you want, but I’m not your child. You can’t tell me what not to do in this situation.” He sounded tired, that much was true. He was tired of fighting with Myra and himself. 

“So, what, Eddie? I sign this, and you leave me forever? Where do you plan on staying?” Eddie rolled his eyes. He knew the concern stemmed from her neediness of being in control. 

“I can continue to sleep in the guest room until I find a place. I’ve been blessed enough to have a job - I can find somewhere in no time.” The last bit was a spitfire way of insulting their relationship; he really was glad he had a job.  _ Could he find a place though? What happens if he doesn’t? Fuck that. _

With that, Myra signed the paper with a shaky hand. That was it. No more fighting, just a few months of dealing with lawyers and documents; he’d be the person he always was, unmasked by fear. He was always brave, but he wasn’t allowed to show it. Now was his time. 

She handed the paper to him, not a tear in sight now. 

_ What does he do now?  _

_ Whatever he wants.  _

Eddie didn’t see Myra for the rest of the night. He didn’t care to ask, or even look around the house for her. He poured himself a glass of wine he kept hidden in the guest room closet, along with a glass and allowed himself a generous amount. It felt like a victory glass of some sort. He loved it. 

He then sat down and proceeded to call Richie for their weekly Skype session. This was something he looked forward to when he got off of work, other than sleeping, but he’d never tell Myra that. 

Being able to acknowledge his past, he realized this situation mirrored the type of relationship he had with his mom. 

_ He had the freedom of going to school, riding his bike, and having friends. Except, he had nothing to look forward to when he got home. This changed, however, one night at around 10:00 PM. They had defeated It, and were now back in school; Eddie had just brushed his teeth and thrown on his pajamas getting ready to turn in for the night. However, that didn’t stop Richie’s gangly limbs from crawling up the side of his house to knock on his window.  _

_ His blood ran cold, and his fingers felt around for his inhaler (a clown will do that to you) upon hearing the tapping. “I don’t need that anymore,” he mumbled and squeezed his eyes shut tightly.  _

_ He decided to jump out of bed in the end after his initial nervousness subsided, and ran to his light switch instead, ready to face whatever was at his window.  _

_ Instead of Pennywise being there to get his revenge, he was met with mismatched pajamas (striped white and blue bottoms with a polka dot button-down), a pair of Chuck Taylor’s, and a shit-eating grin. Fucking Richie. He seemed unbothered nonetheless, and the younger boy threw open his window, allowing him to climb through successfully.  _

_ “What the fuck are you doing, Richie! You could get yourself killed climbing up here! You do realize the number of deaths that happen due to falling out of windows, right? They’re basically a death sentence for any kid wh-“ he was cut off by a giggling Richie.  _

_ “Let loose Ed’s, it’s Friday night! I came to see how ol’ Ed’s was doin’. How are ya?” He still wasn’t very good at doing a Southern accent. Eddie couldn’t stay mad at that, especially when Richie pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose with sincerity. He kind of liked it.  _

_ “It’s 10 at fucking night, Rich. You’re lucky it’s a Friday, or I would’ve left you out there.” He wouldn’t have. “I’m alright though. I’ve got a lot of homework to do, but I might wait until tomorrow. What about you?”  _

_ Richie looked at him as if he’d grown three heads.  _

_ “Homework? On a Saturday? Eddie Spaghetti you wound me… I was doing alright until you mentioned the forbidden.” Richie stumbled over to Eddie’s bed and tried to fall with ease, but he carried no grace, which caused him to thud face-first into Eddie’s stiff mattress. He was clumsy that way.  _

_ “Richie you’re gonna get me in trouble - I’ll put a pillow over your face if you don’t shut up.” Eddie tried to bite back a grin but it was no use, so instead, he continued, “How long do you plan on staying here?” Hopefully forever.  _

_ “Till the cows come home, Ed’s. Hey, speaking of, your mom should be coming home soon. She didn’t want to pull up with me in the-“  _

_ Before Richie could finish his sentence, he was met with a pillow to the face.  _

_ Eddie didn’t want to laugh - he didn’t. He did though. God, he had no control. “Stop talking about my mom, dickhead. How long?”  _

_ “Well… I was going to ask if I could crash here - that is if it’s okay with you. I feel like I don’t see much of you other than when we’re in school. I know your mom has you all cooped up, so I figured I would come here and bring some fun. We can set an alarm for the morning, so she doesn’t catch me… I even brought my comics!” At that, Richie whipped out two new comics - they weren’t folded at the edges, and they happened to be the ones Eddie had mentioned that morning while they talked during English class.  _

_ That was how Eddie found himself at 10:30 at night; under his blankets with Richie snug tight right next to him. Eddie read the comics out loud to Richie, while the other boy made faces or shared his opinion on how the storyline should have gone. It wasn’t rare for them to be so relaxed around each other, they were just never given the time to show each other that they were capable of being this way.  _

_ Eddie felt at home with Richie resting his head on his shoulder; yes, he was at home, but having the other boy next to him made him feel content and safe. Even when Richie’s foot (Eddie fought to take his shoes off, refusing to let the taller boy wear them to sleep) would bump into Eddie’s shin, he didn’t mind. Even when he’d grab his wrist gently so he could lower it a little more to see the images, Eddie still didn’t mind. He centered the comic so that they could be closer.  _

_ By the second comic, the commentary had slowly stopped. Eddie could hear soft breathing coming from right next to him - he felt it on his neck too. Richie was sleeping calmly next to him. Mismatched pajamas and all. He looked peaceful, and the younger boy didn’t want to disturb that moment. He knew Richie was still just as affected by the clown as he was - lack of sleep was just a bonus. Eddie could only give a gentle smile, pulling the shared blanket over both of them. Richie’s hand was still holding Eddie’s wrist as he finally closed his eyes and allowed himself to sleep.  _

_ This arrangement became a weekly thing - Richie would sneak in on Friday’s, and Eddie would let him with hidden excitement. He would read, while the other boy would fall asleep by his side.  _

The excitement he felt to just have this moment with Richie, even if it’s just a Skype call, felt equal as special to him as sneaking through the window. He didn’t need Richie to know what made him happy necessarily, but Richie was like a breath of fresh air for him - he contributed to what made him happy. 

He would have to tell him about the divorce. He had to tell someone; he thought about telling Bev because she’d understand, but she was dealing with her divorce right now (not to mention her and Ben were off on a well deserved three-month vacation). 

Mike was another option. He always knew the right things to say, and he always provided him with the right amount of support. Eddie didn’t want to disrupt his Florida trip, even though deep down he knew Mike wouldn’t mind. 

The others were all great options, but Richie just seemed to be the best choice - he had a way of making things seem alright too. 

He did tell him that night, and he was just as supportive as he thought he would be. In fact, he offered to let Eddie stay with him so he could get away from New York for a while.

Five months later and that was how Eddie found himself in an airport, an overabundance of luggage in hand. He was headed to LA - unfamiliar, but somehow right. Besides, it was January and frankly cold as fuck in New York; any form of warm climate seemed right. 

Eddie had dealt with his divorce with as much ease as he could muster, but it was difficult when Myra, at one point, tried to file it under abandonment. Luckily, her lawyer had enough wits to state that a spouse had to be gone for a year or more for it to be claimed as such. Richie got a kick out of that part when Eddie told him. In the end, he let Myra keep the apartment and all the things in it. He had his clothes, a few items, and his dignity. 

Even though he was officially divorced, and starting a new life, he knew he still had a lot of self-discovery ahead. 

Eddie found himself worrying about what was going to happen next. Wondering if he’d be able to live his life independently after being coddled for so long.  _ He knew things would be okay in the end.  _

He was free of doubt and the chains that held him down for 27 years. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s the second chapter! I decided to switch the POV for some Grade-A insight; Eddie is badass. I also spent a lot of time on this, so enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for getting this far! This is my first real-deal fic, and I couldn't be more excited to share it. I accept suggestions and whatnot, so please feel free to leave input. I have a decent visual of how I want this fic to go, so the chapters should be posted weekly.


End file.
